School of Rock

School of Rock is one of those films that's tailor-made for the comedian performing in it. This has become all the rage since Robin Williams played the Genie in Aladdin, Jim Carey in The Mask, or Will Ferrell in Elf. These sorts of films play to the comedian's strengths and minimize their weaknesses, and when they get it right, it's movie magic.

And so Black gets his moment in School of Rock. Black's been playing the overweight guy pining for the good old days of rock like geeks pine over the original Star Trek series, with pop-eyed enthusiasm far outweighing the energy that most people muster for just about anything. Black is truly the uber-music geek and the title is well earned through a film history of Black essentially playing the same guy: Bio-Dome (as Tenacious D), High Fidelity (as Barry), Shallow Hal (as Hal), and of course Tenacious D in the Pick of Destiny. In short, if there's going to be a film about kids learning about the pedigree of rock and roll, Black would be the guy who wrote, directed, and acted in it.

What's surprising is that this movie ISN'T Tenacious D in the Pick of Destiny. As a music geek, Black's tastes for music could easily alienate much of the audience. School of Rock isn't just about rock; it's about music appreciation, the lack of attention paid to kids in school, teacher malaise, and a society that no longer fights the Man. Or to put it another way, this is a movie made for the mainstream.

Which is what makes it so much fun. Our slacker hero, Dewey Finn (Jack Black), has been crashing at his substitute teacher friend's house (Ned, played by Mike White). When Ned's girlfriend (the lovely Sarah Silverman, playing a decidedly unfunny role) pushes for Dewey's ouster, the slob has to get a job. And so he does, by impersonating Ned at a private school for upper class kids. It's not long before Dewey throws out the curriculum and teaches the kids his own brand of history: good old, wholesome rock and roll.

School of Rock spends a lot of time struggling to justify the madness: the kids soundproof the room, teachers occasionally think they hear something, the uptight principal springs surprise visits (played by the delightfully naughty Joan Cusack), and parents start to get worried. Just about none of it is believable, most specifically when Dewey is finally caught by the police and ends up dashing down the hallway, two guitars in hand, without any further consequences.

But that's beside the point. Who cares if School of Rock bends the laws of time and space to allow Dewey's one chance in the sun, not as a rock star but as the aging patriarch of a band of insanely talented pre-teens? We came to see a rock show, and we get it.

Black flops around, he sweats, he tosses his head with manic glee, but most of all he passionately TEACHES. He teaches a large girl that her weight doesn't matter, teaches the geek that he should ignore the kids who make fun of him, teaches the brat some discipline, and encourages the brilliance of the lead queen bee to use her powers for good instead of evil. He makes a difference with the kids by bringing what he knows best to the room; not school learning, but plain old-fashioned street smarts. Dewey's, and by extension Black's, sheer enthusiasm makes up for his rough edges.

If only teachers were this enthusiastic about anything these days!